


Laundry - three snippets

by thebasement_archivist, Xanthe



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-05-15
Updated: 2001-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 13:07:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11336148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanthe/pseuds/Xanthe
Summary: Two drowsy men in the laundry room. But appearances can be deceiving...





	Laundry - three snippets

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Laundry by Xanthe

I'm posting three Sk/K snippets on the subject of Laundry, one by me and two by Sergeeva (separate email), which I'll post for her. Mine is very sappy 'cos that's all I have the energy for right now so be warned! We were both inspired by a wonderful Theban Band pic of the same title which can be found at: http://www.squidge.org/~praxisters/laundry.html If you haven't seen it do go and check it out as I'm totally in love with it! This story can also be found at http://www.xanthe.org/slash/SkOther/laundry.htm Friendly feedback to 

Laundry by Xanthe  
Summary: Two drowsy men in the laundry room. But appearances can be deceiving...   
Rating: PG  
Posted: 13th April, 2001   
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek

* * *

Laundry  
By Xanthe

It was dark. He woke with a scream on his lips, and a vision of a face in his mind - a face that haunted him, and tore at his conscience. Dark, familiar eyes that should have been full of love, were instead consumed by hurt and hate, and the full force of that loathing was turned on him. He opened his mouth to scream, only to find that the words had been torn from him. His wordless scream turned into frenzied activity. He fought to be free, to return to where he belonged, his arms and legs scissoring desperately...

"Alex...Alex, wake up!"

"Unnnh?" Alex came to with a start, and found himself staring into a pair of dark brown eyes. The room, full of light, hurt his eyes. He glanced around blearily. "Where are we?" he asked, confused and disorientated, his heart beating too fast in his chest. His mind was full of demons, each one grasping for him with greedy hands, trying to devour him, and he had to stay ahead of the game, he had to...

Walter frowned. "In the laundry room of our apartment block, Alex. Where did you think we were?" he teased, then his smile faded as he saw the befuddled look on his lover's face. Alex stared back at himself, reflected in his lover's dark eyes. His face was pale, his eyes shadowed, haunted, full of ghosts - but not ghosts of this world...

"We must have both dozed off," Skinner said gently. "I woke up when you started lashing out as if you were doing ten rounds with Mike Tyson. Alex...what was it? Not another one of those dreams?" Walter reached out an anxious arm and wrapped it around his lover's shoulder, pulling him close. Alex went with the ease of one who knew the comfort of those big arms, and the sheer sensory bliss of being held against that solid, reassuring chest. He rested his head against Walter's cheek, and closed his eyes.

"Yes. It was...not like a dream. More vivid," he murmured.

"Like the others?" Skinner's fingers painted little circles on Krycek's red sweater, teasing his skin through the fabric, bringing him back to reality.

"Yes...it's so hard to explain. I know they are dreams. I mean, realistically they have to be. Maybe they're a side effect of the drugs, but..." Alex shrugged, and felt Walter's fingers caress and cajole him into continuing. "They're just so real," he finished, shaking his head. "So damn real. I wouldn't mind if they were nice dreams but usually they aren't. Usually they..." He stopped, and shuddered.

Walter reached down, lifted his chin, and pressed a gentle, calming kiss to his lips. "They are just dreams, Alex," he said firmly.

"Supposing they aren't?" Alex drew away, his overactive mind buzzing with an idea that had preoccupied him ever since the dreams had first started haunting his sleep. "Suppose that...when we sleep we cross over into another reality - and when we sleep there, we live this life," he said.

Walter smiled. "That sounds like a fantastic idea. That's why you're the novelist and I'm not," he grinned.

"No, but...truly. I mean it," Alex whispered. "Maybe that's what's happening. It was just so real."

"You're just tired. You had a late night. I knew I should have insisted you came to bed."

"I wanted to finish the chapter." Alex shrugged. "You know how I get when the ideas come. I couldn't have slept even if I tried. I had to write it out."

"Hmm." Skinner made his 'stern' face, and Alex gave a rueful chuckle. "Yes, I know what you get like," Skinner sighed, stretching his long legs out in front of him, narrowly avoiding the laundry basket with his big, booted feet. "And I've learned to my cost from hundreds of kicked shins courtesy of your restless legs that imprisoning you in bed and expecting you to sleep is a lost cause. Even so...I wish you'd pace yourself better, Alex. You need your rest." His dark eyes were sad, his comment pointed.

Alex smiled, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief that this was his reality, not that other place, where nobody cared whether he lived or died. "I don't deserve you," he murmured.

"Whoa! Where did that come from?" Skinner wrapped two big arms around his lover and gave him a very noisy, slurpy kiss on the forehead. "You deserve nothing but the best, Alex!"

"Are you saying you're the best?" Alex teased mischievously.

"Well, I haven't had any complaints," Skinner grinned. He glanced around the laundry room to make sure they were alone, then he placed his hand on Alex's crotch and massaged the swelling bulge that he found there. Alex opened his mouth and allowed his tongue to wet his lips lasciviously, and Skinner laughed and pulled him close again. "You still haven't told me about the dream," he reminded his lover gently.

Alex sighed. He should have known that Walter wouldn't let him get away with that evasion. His lover was like a dog with a bone once a subject was begun - especially when that subject was in any way related to Alex's health or well-being.

"It was the same as before." He shrugged.

"The one with the aliens?" Skinner pressed.

"Yeah. Don't laugh." Alex prodded him in the ribs.

"I won't. I promise," Skinner's dark eyes were amused.

"All right. You were in this one." Alex bit on his lip, and glanced at his lover.

Skinner squeezed him encouragingly. "Go on. What was I doing? Being abducted by those evil aliens? Enduring horribly intrusive anal *probes*?" He said that last word with a hint of lustful intent, and Alex would have laughed out loud if it hadn't been for...

"No. I was killing you," he said.

Walter looked taken aback. "Oh," he said. "Hmm, that could be worryingly Freudian. What was your murder weapon of choice? Gun? Knife? Candlestick? Lead piping?" He grinned, trying to make a joke of it.

"No. I...I poisoned you," Alex told him. "I infected you with some kind of parasite. It gave me control over you. They were in your bloodstream...all I had to do was press a button and they were activated, making you very ill..." He stopped, the words choking in the back of his throat. Damn but it had felt so real.

"Oh, Alex. Alex, Alex, Alex." Skinner reached out and pulled him close and he went, unresisting. "This is just your own fears coming out as nightmares, Alex, but there's no need. I keep testing negative. We practice safe sex. I'm fine. You haven't given me HIV. What you have given me is the best two years of my life. Please stop worrying about this."

"It's hard. If anything happened to you...if I caused anything to happen to you..." Alex glanced up at his lover, the worry radiating from every tense muscle in his body. His life had been a lonely one before he met Skinner -he still couldn't believe he had been lucky enough to become involved with this amazing man. He only had to look at his strong, handsome lover to get a hard on, and although he often teased Skinner about his status as a bona fide 'national treasure', he still found it mind-boggling that this man, the Walter Skinner, would be remotely interested in him, Alex Krycek, struggling author.

"Ssh...the only thing you've caused me is a ton of washing as the result of a far too vigorous sex life," Skinner grinned, glancing ruefully at the baskets around their feet. "And that's with all the condoms we get through!"

Alex smiled, and leaned his head on Skinner's shoulder again, watching as the dryer went around, mesmerizing him. It was warm in here. A warm Saturday morning spent doing the laundry with his lover. It felt good. It felt normal. Somehow he had a feeling that 'normal' wasn't something his alter ego, that other Alex, the one driven by fear, living in the dark, running with the rats, ever experienced.

"Maybe there are different realities, different universes," he murmured to his lover as he closed his eyes again. "Maybe we can catch glimpses of them when we sleep. Maybe that's what these dreams are. Maybe in another reality I'm not a novelist and you're not one of the nation's favorite sporting heroes. Maybe...maybe I *am* that assassin - and you *are* something high up in the FBI."

"Yeuch! Me in a suit! I don't think so!" Walter growled. "And I'm far too old to still have that 'sporting hero' tag attached. That was years ago!"

Alex grinned, cozying his face against his lover's denim-clad shoulder again, and then a thought occurred to him. Supposing he was glimpsing an alternate reality? Supposing that Alex was also glimpsing his reality and wanted it for himself? Supposing he found a way to cross over into this universe, and take from Alex what was his, to snuggle up to his Walter, while he was consigned to that other universe, where he would have to lie, and kill, and where Walter was his bitter enemy. Supposing...

"Alex. Stop it." Walter's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Stop what?" Alex glanced at his lover.

"All that buzzing inside your head. I can hear it from here."

"We're telepathic now are we?" Alex teased. "Now that would make a good plotline..."

"Stop it!" Walter groaned. "Just switch off whatever's going through your inventive little mind, and get some rest."

"Or?" Alex raised a provocative eyebrow.

"Or else," Walter replied firmly not rising to the bait.

Alex subsided against his lover again wishing it were that easy to switch off his thoughts. Sometimes he envied Walter his calm demeanor, and ability to take whatever the world threw at him without blinking an eye. Walter was probably right. They probably were just dreams induced by the drugs he took for his condition - that combined with the fact that he was on a writing high right now, and his imagination was working overtime as a result. He was tired, and he shouldn't have stayed up half the night writing. It was no wonder the dreams had seemed so vivid. He was run down.

"But supposing that other Alex found a way to take my place," he said, without realizing he'd spoken out loud. Walter gave a deep, heartfelt sigh. "No, listen...supposing he was deeply envious of what we have, and found a way to take my place."

"He couldn't. I'd know," Skinner replied.

"How?" Alex pressed.

"Well, does this other Alex, the assassin Alex, have a habit of asking weird and bizarre questions every five seconds?" Skinner raised an eyebrow. Alex opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it again, with a wry smile. "I rest my case," Skinner said, crossing his arms smugly.

Alex conceded the point. He still wished he could get the image of that other Alex out of his mind though. It made him sad in the way the leftover emotions from dreams sometimes do when they're particularly vivid. He felt a need to put something right, to say something that couldn't be said in that other world.

"Walter...?"

"Alex." Walter's voice was both amused and exasperated.

"Um, this is going to sound crazy...and sappy...but...in my dreams...uh, well, I loved you in that universe as well. You hated me and I loved you - but I could never tell you. I had to keep on hurting you and I hated doing it. I wanted you to know that I hated it. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Skinner replied, his tone full of indulgent smiles. "But it isn't real, Alex." Walter's voice was low, rumbling, and calm. He was a man securely grounded in the real world for which Alex was profoundly grateful. If he ever got too lost in his own imagination Walter would always be there to pull him back. He felt Walter's head nod against his own, and knew that his lover was dozing off once more.

"Walter?" He muttered again.

"Hmm?" His lover replied.

"I'm glad we're just regular folk who talk, and make love, and...and do the laundry!" He glanced up to find that his lover's dark eyes were open, and fixed affectionately on him, bemused and loving at the same time. "There's something wild, exotic, and exhilarating about the other Alex's life," he mused. "As a novelist I'm always living in fantasy worlds...always creating what isn't real, making up for what's boring about my own existence, and I suppose there's a part of me that always wants to live in the worlds I create, to have that kind of fantasy life. But you know... I wouldn't want his life, however exciting it is. I want this one. I want normality, our normality...and you know...I think he probably wants it too. He'd give anything to have what we have here. It seems so mundane, but to just sit and do the laundry together...he wants that. He wants you." Alex shivered, almost scared to go back to sleep. It might not have been real but it had felt real.

"Well he can't have me. I'm already taken," Walter said softly, his lips nuzzling the side of Alex's face, warm, and tender. "And very happily taken I might add."

Alex grinned. Walter was surely right. It made sense. His HIV status did prey on his mind, and despite all the precautions they took he was constantly worried that Walter might contract the virus too. It was hardly surprising that he had dreamed up a scenario where he had infected his lover's blood with a deadly poison. It was so classically Freudian that it was almost amusing.

Alex settled down against his lover again, relishing the feel of Walter's shirt against his face, and Walter's strong, hard, muscled body nestled against his own. He wouldn't trade his life and his Walter for anything in this universe - or any other universe that might exist. No, Walter was *definitely* right. That other Alex Krycek and that other Walter Skinner were merely figments of his imagination, they didn't really exist...

The End  
Friendly feedback to 

 

* * *

 

Sergeeva isn't on this list so I'm posting her 2 "Laundry" snippets here on her behalf. I didn't write these two, just the other one! Please send her feedback to the addy at the end - I think Sergeeva's snippets are gorgeous. They were inspired by a wonderful pic by The Theban Band which can be found at: http://www.squidge.org/~praxisters/laundry.html You can send Sergeeva feedback at: 

* * *

LAUNDRY (Version 1)  
By Sergeeva

Walter was feeling decidedly mellow. Life was pretty good. For once he'd brought no paperwork home for the weekend - instead he spent the morning doing chores until the sunshine outside lured him to the park. With uncharacteristic spontaneity he left the laundry, grabbed his rollerblades and spent a pleasurable hour loosening muscles left cramped by a week of long days at his desk.

He knew he must be really relaxed because he let his habitual vigilance slip as he powered along the tree-lined pathways. His assailant simply stepped out from behind a tree and grabbed him, tumbling them both down a grassy bank. His embarrassment at being so easily surprised must have slowed his reactions or he would have had the cuffs on Krycek before you could say "nanocytes". Except his handcuffs were at home along with his common sense, and Krycek gave him an even greater surprise by rolling him onto his back and kissing him breathless. Then his tormentor calmly sat up, grinned the most wicked grin ever and produced from his pocket the slim black device that had held Walter's life in thrall these long months. After waving it one last time in Walter's stunned face, Krycek lobbed the infernal thing into the nearby duck-pond.

"There you go - free at last. Don't say I never do anything for you, Skinner." And it was the strangest thing - his tormentor actually looked happy. Walter was instantly suspicious. Re-asserting his position, he straddled the other man, grabbed a handful of sleek black hair and pinned him down while he demanded an explanation.

Suffice it to say, Krycek's explanation was mind-boggling. It took a half-hour of wrestling each other until their sweaty bodies threatened to simply slide into the pond after the palm-pilot, while Krycek spun a tale of intolerable coercion, impossible circumstances, long-suppressed lust and the infuriating interventions of one Fox Mulder and Krycek's cock nudged ever more insistently at Skinner's stomach, and Krycek's hot breath bathed Skinner's face and Krycek's mouth made commando raids on Skinner's earlobes.

They eventually agreed to take it indoors.

Back in Walter's condo, Krycek took the upper hand for the last time by marching upstairs, stripping off and flinging himself naked and spread-eagled onto Walter's freshly made bed. At last Walter had the chance to show him who was boss. Four times actually.

Now here they sat in the laundry room, finishing off the last of the weekend chores. Feeling more than a trifle smug, Walter looked down at his denim-clad groin, cupping himself with some pride. John Henry had performed with Marine resilience and stamina, eliciting the most impressive moans and sighs from Alex...

Alex... what a lot could change in one afternoon. The Ratbastard was transformed into Alex, his adoring sex-toy. Walter looked fondly at the sleepy-head leaning against his shoulder. He'd quite worn the boy out, apparently. Images swam in his head; of Alex's long legs wrapped around Walter's tanned thighs, of Alex's dark head licking its way down Walter's body, of Alex's viridian eyes wide with delight as Walter thrust and thrust...

Grinning lazily, Walter stroked the bulge in his jeans. "Ooh-rah," he murmured to himself, "this Marine is good to go again." Well, the weekend was only half over; plenty more playtime left - so long as they didn't run out of clean sheets.

The End

Feedback to 

  
Archived: April 21, 2001 

Laundry I and II by Sergeeva

Sergeeva isn't on this list so I'm posting her 2 "Laundry" snippets here on her behalf. I didn't write these two, just the other one! Please send her feedback to the addy at the end - I think Sergeeva's snippets are gorgeous. They were inspired by a wonderful pic by The Theban Band which can be found at: http://www.squidge.org/~praxisters/laundry.html You can send Sergeeva feedback at: 

* * *

LAUNDRY (Version 2)  
By Sergeeva

Walter flexed his shoulder and bounced his sleepy lover's head gently. There was no response but a soft snore.

"You're not fooling me..." he shrugged again, not so gently this time. "You were wide awake enough when we got up and you started handing out orders about laundry duty." Alex snuffled a little, but the green cat's-eyes stayed firmly shut. However, a slow grin turned up the corners of the lush lips.

"You made the mess, Big Guy, you clean up - that's the rule. It's not my fault you came like Old Faithful." The grin broadened into a smirk that was positively smug. "Okay, I admit I may have had something to do with your roaring like a bear and invoking several deities... Can I help being Alex-the-Animal, the Russian Ravisher, the Top Dog, the... ?"

"Hummnnpphh." Walter muttered darkly, kicking a sulky foot at the two overflowing laundry baskets waiting for his attention.

"Four pairs in one night - I think that's a record even for us!" Krycek yawned extravagantly and opened one eye. "But however you look at it, it's your fault, Sweetcheeks, for leaving an ass like yours lying about naked and available." He snuggled comfily in against the cotton of Walter's shirtsleeve, smacking his lips softly. "See how you've worn me out."

"But I did the laundry last time!" Walter folded his arms across his chest and stuck his chin out pugnaciously. Alex sighed and sat up, opening both eyes at last.

"Can I help it if I'm insatiable and you're irresistible? And if you didn't look so cute when you scowl I'd have to toss you back in bed and mess up another set of sheets. Actually, there's the terracotta flannel we haven't christened yet..."

Walter groaned, but rose and began stuffing bedding into the washer. Alex regarded his lover's back view speculatively, stretched out a foot and lifted Walter's chambray shirttail with his toe. "Yeah, I've got a bit more in me yet, I reckon, and you can be sure none of it's going on the sheets.

Now get that ass upstairs!"

The End

Feedback to 

  
Archived: April 21, 2001 


End file.
